


Desk Job

by afacadeoffeelings



Category: Transformers: More than Meets the Eye, transformers: idw
Genre: M/M, Robot Sex, Slash, Spike and Valve, Sticky Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, interfacing, overloads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 16:39:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3817531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afacadeoffeelings/pseuds/afacadeoffeelings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodimus interrupts Magnus's work in a rather particular way when he pays his second in command an office visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desk Job

As he finished signing the report, Magnus set the stylus aside, clenching his hand. The circuitry and servos were reaching their exhaustion point, as a recent engine failure had required routine maintenance check ups. And, regardless of Chromedome’s insistence that Perceptor’s diligence was about the equivalent of five other ‘bots, Ultra Magnus had been mindful to check on the work at least twice a day. That, however had led to doubling some of his reports, as well as making sure that the rest of the crew read and acknowledged them. Though Magnus was fairly certain most of them were blindly acknowledging them without actually reading them.

The expression Rodimus had given him when Ultra Magnus had advised that he would be forwarding the reports had been somewhere between horrified and disbelieving. In fact, the captain had initially asked if Magnus was joke. Which, to be frank, could have been a joke unto itself if Magnus hadn’t been offended by the implication he would make a mockery of ensuring the ship’s crew was aware of the engine’s status. After one of Rodimus’s trademark optic rolls, scoffs, and then a snort of derision, he’d taken the datapad...and unceremoniously tossed it onto the nearest table.

Pushing the memory aside, as it was only going to grate on his nerves, Magnus turned his attention back to the next group of reports. His focus once again on the data glowing up from the screen, he was midway through the report when there was a knock at the door. Magnus didn’t bother looking up, and continued to proofread the report.

“Come in,” he called, mildly frustrated with the interruption.

“You know, life is a bit more than just reports and rules,” came a familiar voice accompanied by the sound of footfalls.

Immediately recognizing the voice and stride, as nobody walked with that much of an arrogant stride in their step, Magnus gave Rodimus an acknowledging glance before returning to the report.

“What did you need, Rodimus?”

“Well, first I was just coming to see that you were still alive. Thought maybe your office had finally gotten tired of all the time you’re spending in it and ejected you into space,” Rodimus stated, stepping over to the desk. He leaned forward on it, the shadow he cast falling on the datapad and making its contents difficult to read. Sighing, Magnus set the report aside and leaned back in his chair, finally turning his gaze on Rodimus. He wasn’t going to get any work done with the ship’s captain hovering around and chattering away.

“I am still alive, as you can see,” Magnus replied, looking at Rodimus. “I am, also, very busy, so if you could make this quick-”

“You look like what I’ll bet that blown engine feels like.”

Magnus stared back at Rodimus in silence, not entirely sure how to take the backhanded comment of what Rodimus was trying to pass off as concern. Smirking, Rodimus stood up and crossed his arms.

“Stressed out to your limits again, huh?” he asked with a knowing scoff.

“Hardly,” Magnus retorted, already feeling Rodimus starting to pry towards his last nerve. “And am I to assume this is your brand of being concerned?”

“Well, it’s a rather specific brand of concern,” Rodimus continued smugly, walking around Magnus’s desk, his index digit dragging along the edge lightly. “Can’t have my second-in-command overtaxed, now can I? You do that job well enough on your own. But...it’s my job as captain to make sure you’re as relaxed as somebody like you can be.”

Magnus felt himself reflexively stiffen a little as Rodimus continued. The last time they’d had this sort of conversation, they had ended up…

“Rodimus, I assure you, my stress levels are-” Eyeing the report on his desk, Magnus tried to steer the conversation away from where Rodimus was guiding it. ...not without a bit of reluctance, though.

“You sure, Mags?” Rodimus interrupted with a grin, moving a bit closer as his finger slid off the desk, not-so-casually brushing against Magnus’s arm. “Been practicing a couple of things you might enjoy. They’d certainly take the edge off the stress, in any case.”

Sitting up straighter in his chair, Magnus gave Rodimus an exasperated look, though he could already feel his circuitry starting to warm up at the idea of Rodimus’s idea of ‘stress relief’. Their first encounter had been slow and careful, at Magnus’s insistence, but since then, Rodimus’s pomposity, and eagerness, had only grown with each encounter.

“Are you intending to continue to try and make me play a guessing game?” Magnus asked, not moving when Rodimus set a hand on his knee. “Or are you going to enlighten me on what these things are?”

“Aw, but Mags,” Rodimus teased, his smug grin taking on an obvious, flirtatious tone. He moved a little closer to Magnus, setting a hand on his second-in-command’s thigh, still not entirely sure if Magnus was going to let him proceed. “That would spoil the surprise if I just flat out told you, wouldn’t it?”

Eyeing Rodimus, Magnus sighed softly. He knew when he was defeated, and this was one of those times.  Rodimus had that grin that made it practically impossible to argue with, and the smaller ‘bot’s hand was cautiously drifting up his thigh. Wordlessly, Magnus pushed the chair away from the desk just enough to let Rodimus walk so that he was in front of him.

His grin widening and optics momentarily flashing in excitement, Rodimus stepped over and climbed onto Magnus’s lap with a short noise of effort. As he always did, Magnus grasped both of Rodimus’s hands to help keep the smaller ‘bot steady. Which, given Rodimus’s exuberance at the moment, was a good thing.

Shifting his weight carefully so that he was comfortable, Rodimus grinned up at Magnus and clasped his hands on the sides of Magnus’s face. Leaning forward, Rodimus nuzzled his face against Magnus’s, a low, mechanical purr thrumming from his chassis. The affectionate action and sound caught Magnus off-guard, as Rodimus typically went straight for the fragging part and left very little for foreplay. Personally, Magnus wasn’t fond of it, found it uncouth and, if he was going to be completely honest, a bit offensive. However, he’d kept quiet for the most part, as he’d found Rodimus was easily flustered during such intimacy, even after multiple encounters.

After a moment, though, Magnus relented, even going so far as to kiss the corner of Rodimus’s mouth when the opportunity presented itself. Rodimus chuckled and kissed Magnus’s bottom lip, his fingertips feathering along the outlines of Magnus’s helm and upper part of his chassis.

“There you go, Mags,” Rodimus purred, kissing the side of Magnus’s helm. He gently pressed his face against the side of Magnus’s neck, making the same mechanical hum.

Still in a bit of surprise over the exceptional amount of affection, for Rodimus, anyways, that the captain was showing, Magnus stroked the back of Rodimus’s helm, feeling Rodimus smile at the action. After a moment, Rodimus kissed the side of Magnus’s neck and sat up, still grinning and appearing both proud and excited to continue.

“And the best part about this is that you get to sit back and enjoy what I’ve been practicing,” Rodimus noted, tapping lightly on Magnus’s chassis.

“Do I now?” Magnus asked, not completely able to mask his incredulity.

“Yeah,” Rodimus replied, quirking his head in a moment of smugness. He leaned forward, lips parting slightly. “C’mere, Mags.”

Leaning up, grasping the back of Rodimus’s neck, Magnus pulled Rodimus back down to him, the captain kissing Magnus firmly, his glossa teasing at Magnus’s lips. Deepening the kiss, Magnus pulled Rodimus’s glossa into his mouth, sighing quietly in contentment. Laughing softly into Magnus’s mouth, Rodimus clutched at Magnus’s chassis as Magnus’s glossa danced against his, Rodimus’s lips locked firmly with Magnus’s.

As the last bits of his initial surprise faded, Magnus kept one hand on the back of Rodimus’s neck, the other running down Rodimus’s back. When his hand reached Rodimus’s aft, Magnus gripped at it gently, earning a short noise of surprise from Rodimus. Fingertips following the outline of Rodimus’s aft, Magnus propped one pede against the edge of the desk so that his spike cap bumped up against the aft of the ‘bot writhing against him.

“Mmmn, Mags, c’mon,” Rodimus laughed shakily. He was trying to keep his focus, but slag it all if Magnus wasn’t making it difficult. “I’m supposed to be here for your benefit, remember?”

“And I do appreciate the unexpected concern for my well-being,” Magnus replied, hand still on the back of Rodimus’s neck. “However, I believe it would be a gross disregard of my own duties if I did not consider your benefit from this meeting.”

As he spoke, Magnus’s index digit began to trace a very light, teasing circle around Rodimus’s valve cap, picking up on the warmth that encompassed the cap. Whimpering through a grin as his valve cap reflexively opened, Rodimus kissed Magnus firmly, dentae nipping at Magnus’s bottom lip.

“Yeah, but you’re always good about keeping me and my benfi-!” Rodimus cut himself off with a sharp inhale as he felt two of Magnus’s digits slip into his valve, pressing against the walls and sending small ripples of tensity through Rodimus. His fingertips dug against Magnus’s chassis, and Rodimus bit down on his bottom lip as he leaned back a little, pressing Magnus’s digits a bit further into his valve. Finally, he managed a gasped grin and he looked up at Magnus, who had the faintest ghost of a smile on his features. “One more, Magnus? Please?”

His hand sliding from the back of Rodimus’s neck so that he could hook a finger under Rodimus’s chin and pull him forward for another kiss, and give him a bit more space, Magnus obliged Rodimus’s request. Moaning audibly against Magnus’s lips, Rodimus leaned forward so that his chassis was resting against Magnus’s, his aft still lifted just enough so that Magnus could continue to slide his digits in and out of Rodimus’s valve slowly.

As his digits slid in again, Magnus let his thumb gently press and tease at Rodimus’s now lubricant-slick node, holding the smaller ‘bot steady when Rodimus jerked reflexively against Magnus. The warm, thick fluid was slipping down Magnus’s fingers as he continued to tease at Rodimus’s valve, Rodimus whispering something roughly between soft gasps. Fingertips probing against the soft, flexible walls, Magnus found a particularly sensitive ridge, and he teased at Rodimus’s node with his thumb in small, circular motions as his fingertips pressed against the ridge.

“Magnus!” Rodimus cried through gritted dentae, head tilting back as he gripped at the edges of Magnus’s chassis.

A small pulse of lubricant slipped down Magnus’s fingers, the translucent, pinkish hued fluid dripping down onto Magnus’s waist. dentae still gritted, Rodimus panted and glanced down, fighting the urge to open his spike cap. He laughed and then looked up at Magnus, who had been watching him intently, but quietly. It was something that Rodimus wanted to change, that silence.

Granted, each time they’d fragged Rodimus had been left utterly breathless and pleasantly exhausted, but Magnus had typically managed to maintain his composure the entire time, save for a few times where he hadn’t been able to hold back...typically it was during his overload. But, at one point, Rodimus had tried using his mouth, and Magnus had actually drawn in a sharp breath, murmuring Rodimus’s name through clenched dentae. ...unfortunately, Rodimus had choked, and though Magnus had been more than reassuring and understanding, the captain had been so mollified he’d stayed in his habitation suite for the entire day.

“You’re not making this easy for me, are you?” Rodimus laughed haltingly, bracing himself against Magnus’s shoulders. He made another audible groan as Magnus’s thumb rubbed up and down against his node, his lubricant leaving the same, tantalizing warm and carnally pleasing pinprick feeling in its wake.

Every bots’ lubricant had a bit of a sexual stimulant in it, for lack of a better word. Ratchet had explained it in full at one point, but Rodimus’s thoughts had been far from listening to some textbook explanation. But the first time he’d fragged Magnus, Rodimus had gotten a much more intimate understanding of said stimulant. The function of it was obvious, and depending on how often the ‘bot was fragged, the stimulant could build up over time.

Needless to say, the first time Rodimus fragged Magnus, he’d just about overloaded with the first three thrusts…

“How so?” Magnus asked, tilting his head to the side.

Taking in a short breath before managing his cocky grin once again, Rodimus tried to keep his voice steady, even though his left pede twitched involuntarily when Magnus’s thumb flicked over the tip of his node.

“You’re messing with my concentration!” Rodimus replied, apparently flushed. “Your benefit from this is supposed to be first, you know.”

“And this benefit was different from you being on top?”

“Mm-hm.”

Pausing momentarily in thought, Magnus’s gaze flicked back up to Rodimus, who grinned and leaned forward so he could kiss Magnus deeply.

“Help me down and then open your spike and valve caps and I’ll show you what your benefit is,” Rodimus whispered.

Pausing for a moment, Magnus studied Rodimus closely. If Rodimus was planning what he guessed, then Magnus could only hope it went a little smoother than the first time. While it’d been a bit uncomfortable for him, the look of utter embarrassment on Rodimus’s face had been almost painful. To top it all off, Rodimus had locked himself in his habitation suite and had refused to come out for an entire day. And even after he did, he wouldn’t look Magnus in the optics for another day.

Rodimus, however, was already looking a little impatient, and, against his better judgment, Magnus slid his fingers out of Rodimus slowly, but not without letting his thumb tease at Rodimus’s node one last time. Clutching at Magnus’s sides, Rodimus moaned and grinned contentedly, arching his back as much as he could.

“Mags….” Rodimus’s left pede twitched again, tapping lightly against Magnus’s leg.

With a low groan of effort, feeling his spike cap taut and wanting to be opened, Magnus carefully helped Rodimus clamber down. Noticing the droplets of lubricant on Magnus’s leg, Rodimus made a mock ‘tsk’ing noise and patted Magnus’s thigh.

“Sorry about the mess, sir,” Rodimus stated quickly in a faux militaristic tone. Magnus bristled initially at the tone, but when Rodimus kissed at his inner thigh, he made a stifled grunt of surprise. “If you would scoot a little closer to the edge of the chair, sir, I’ll clean up the mess.”

Relaxing back down in the chair, hearing it creak slightly under his weight, Magnus slid down a little further in the chair. Rodimus knelt down between his legs, nuzzling his face against Magnus’s inner thigh lightly.

“Thank you, sir,” Rodimus murmured with a mischievous grin, once again kissing at Magnus’s thigh.

Not hesitating, Rodimus licked up the small smattering of lubricant, his glossa slowly and deliberately dragging against Magnus’s inner thigh. Though Magnus remained silent, Rodimus heard the armrests squeak as Magnus gripped them tightly in response. Looking up at Magnus with his bright, cerulean optics, Rodimus managed a small grin before lapping up the last drops of lubricant, his glossa teasingly close to Magnus’s heated valve cap. Once again nuzzling his face against Magnus’s thigh, Rodimus grinned widely when he heard Magnus’s spike cap open and when he glanced down, he could see Magnus had opened his valve cap, just as Rodimus had asked.

Looking back up at Magnus, who looked back at Rodimus silently, hands still clenching the armrests of the chair tightly, Rodimus made a short chuckle before turning his attention back to between Magnus’s legs. He could see the glisten of Magnus’s pale blue lubricant along the edges of Magnus’s valve, and with a low hum, Rodimus leaned forward, resting his hands on Magnus’s waist for the moment, and kissed at the base of Magnus’s spike. He looked up quickly, hoping for a reaction, but all Magnus did was inhale sharply. Even so, Rodimus grinned and let his now fluid slick glossa drag up against Magnus’s node, feeling the sudden rush of pinpricks across his glossa.

His fingertips now digging into the armrests, Magnus gritted his dentae to stifle a groan, his body going rigid. As much as he wanted to tilt his head back, watching Rodimus work between his legs was a far more tantalizing sight than the ceiling. Sucking softly at Magnus’s node for a moment, Rodimus then slid his glossa as far as he could manage into Magnus’s valve.

“Hnh!”

The sound of Magnus’s stopped moan was enough to make Rodimus smile inwardly, and he let his hands aimlessly trace along the edges of Magnus’s armor as his glossa gratified the now hot walls of Magnus’s valve. At this point, his lips were tingling faintly, but it was hardly noticeable, and Rodimus forced himself to relax as he lolled his glossa along a ridge of Magnus’s valve.

Again, Magnus inhaled sharply, gritting his dentae when he felt Rodimus’s glossa tease at the sensitive spot within his valve. Rodimus’s lips were inadvertently brushing against Magnus’s node each time the smaller ‘bot momentarily withdrew his glossa from Magnus, sending small tendrils of stimulation through Magnus’s circuitry. As far as Magnus could tell, the room around him was fast fading from focus, Rodimus between his legs and the gratifying sensations he was leaving the only things with any clarity. His sense of composure faltered momentarily when Rodimus sucked softly on the node, a flash of warmth and stimulation pressing against the hypersensitive spot, and Magnus gritted his dentae to the point he could feel them creak slightly as he fought back the urge to groan.

Humming softly, Rodimus continued to suck at the node slowly and deliberately, optics flicking up just enough to see Magnus tilting his head back, hands now holding the armrests in a deathgrip. Pleased with how things were progressing, Rodimus slipped his glossa back into Magnus’s valve, this time making sure his upper lip pressed against the lubricant coated, now firm, node. Sliding his glossa along the valve wall, making sure to press the tip against any ridge or sensitive spot he could discover, Rodimus felt Magnus suddenly buck slightly under his hands, his second-in-command gasping hoarsely.

Within moments, Rodimus tasted the results of his glossa’s actions, the pale blue lubricant welling up in his mouth. Making a very pleased sound, Rodimus kept up his gratification of Magnus’s valve, ensuring the lubricant coated his lips and the inside of his mouth. Chuckling quietly when the lubricant dripped down his lips, Rodimus pulled back just enough so he could kiss Magnus’s now trembling, inner thigh.

“Doing okay there, Mags?” Rodimus murmured.

Magnus could only nod, his breath coming out in short, rough pants, entire body trembling at the feeling of his overload burning at his circuits for release. It had taken a considerable amount of restraint to not stroke at the shaft of his spike while Rodimus had worked at his valve, sending tremors of enticement through his large frame.

“Good,” Rodimus hummed quietly, his tone laced with faint arrogance and definite promise.

Standing up up his knees as much as he could, this time bracing himself by setting his hands on Magnus’s hips, Rodimus leaned forward and slipped his glossa one more time into Magnus’s valve, curving his glossa so as to gather up the translucent blue lubricant. It dripped from his glossa as he slid it out, but it was enough that when he pressed his glossa against Magnus’s spike, Magnus made a stifled cry and he dug his right heel against the floor.

“There we go…”

His glossa sliding up along the shaft, Rodimus hesitated for only a moment before taking a steadying breath and slipped his mouth firmly over Magnus’s spike as much as he could.

The flare of carnal stimulation and heat from Rodimus’s mouth was too much, and Magnus groaned loudly, doubling over slightly, a shaking hand resting lightly on the back of Rodimus’s helm. Rodimus made the same, pleased, mechanical purr, the reverberations teasing against Magnus’s spike. Struggling to keep his panted breathing quiet, Magnus once again gritted his dentae and continued to lightly run his trembling palm down the back of Rodimus’s helm.

Immensely satisfied with Magnus’s reaction, Rodimus relaxed a little, one hand sliding down from Magnus’s hip so that Rodimus could slip three fingers into Magnus’s taut, lubricant soaked valve, his thumb doing the same, circular motions that Magnus had done to Rodimus’s node.

His overload coiled sharply, and Magnus grunted audibly as a sudden burst of transfluid pulsed from his spike. Reflexively clutching at the side of Rodimus’s helm, Magnus gasped out another pant, forcing himself to continue stroking the side and back of Rodimus’s helm assuringly. Rodimus hummed contentedly and worked his mouth along Magnus’s spike with a quickened pace, his still lubricant-slick glossa pressed against the shaft and leaving a wake of carnal stimulation. Admittedly, Rodimus wasn’t able to take in all of Magnus’s spike, but he purposefully let some of the lubricant slip down what he couldn’t tease at with his mouth.

His composure trembling with each tremor of his rapidly growing overload, Magnus was unable to keep his panted breathing quiet when Rodimus picked up the pace. Another smattering of transfluid pulsed from his spike, and Magnus scraped his heel against the floor again, gritting his dentae fiercely. Every servo and cable seemed to be tensing, and Magnus could feel his overload starting to peak.

“Rodimus…,” Magnus breathed hoarsely.

Hearing his name only caused Rodimus to work his mouth and glossa along Magnus’s spike with increased fervence and insistence, and Rodimus pressed his glossa firmly against the shaft while his thumb rubbed firmly against Magnus’s node. The heat in Magnus’s valve suddenly flared, and Rodimus felt the walls start to tense around his fingers rhythmically.

Magnus kept his hand on the back of Rodimus’s helm, wordlessly imploring Rodimus to continue. As Rodimus obliged, Magnus leaned back in the chair suddenly as he felt his overload finally climax, groaning loudly. He dug one heel sharply against the floor, his back arching as he fought back the urge to cry out. Rodimus wasn’t slowing down, even as Magnus’s body shuddered with the heated rush of his overload gripped his frame and pulses of transfluid throbbed from his spike.

Every sense spun in ecstatic incoherence, and Magnus instinctively lifted his hips, gasping and panting as he fought to keep what shreds of his composure were left. A strangled groan pushed past his lips as Magnus tilted his head back, optics shuttering off so that he could focus solely on the carnal release and mad pleasure that it brought. Managing a final, rough gasp that stifled the cry that had wanted to tear itself from him, Magnus panted sharply as the last pulse of his overload left him.

Collapsing back against the chair, Magnus worked to regain his senses...and it was then he heard a short, stifled cough from Rodimus. Though concern immediately cut through the heady, after-overload haze, Magnus stopped himself. Rodimus was working quickly to regain his composure, and as much as he wanted to check on Rodimus, Magnus opted to spare Rodimus’s pride and gave him a couple more minutes.

It was enough, and Rodimus managed to turn his choked cough into a rather unconvincing chuckle, and he leaned his head against Magnus’s inner thigh, giving Magnus a smug grin. When he realized Rodimus was looking at him, Magnus turned his pleasantly exhausted gaze to the captain.

“So how’re those stress levels now, Mags?” Rodimus asked.

“Consider them well taken care of,” Magnus panted softly in response.

Kissing Magnus’s inner thigh, Rodimus slowly stood up. He could still taste the hot, opalescent colored transfluid on his glossa, and flecks of blue lubricant were specked across his lips. Grinning, he tilted his head to the side as he studied Magnus’s exhausted, slightly trembling frame. Grasping Magnus’s hips, Rodimus leaned forward, looking quite pleased with himself.

“And we didn’t even get your desk messed up,” Rodimus pointed out.

Sighing heavily, Magnus gave Rodimus a level look, and the smaller ‘bot awaited the exasperated look and irritated comment from his second-in-command. Instead, much to Rodimus’s surprise, Magnus motioned for Rodimus to step back. Curious, Rodimus stepped to the side so that Magnus could rise from the chair. Looking up at his second-in-command, Rodimus tilted his head inquisitively, his grin returning.

“Shooing me out already, huh?”

“Hardly.” Magnus stepped forward and grasped Rodimus’s hips, looking down at his commander. “Can you hold on?”

Rodimus’s optics went wide in realization, and after a moment, he nodded slowly. Nodding his approval, Magnus suddenly hoisted Rodimus up. Gasping, Rodimus reflexively threw his arms around Magnus’s neck, pressing himself against the larger ‘bot as he wrapped his legs around Magnus’s waist. It was then that he realized just what Magnus was planning when he felt the tip of Magnus’s spike brush across his still open valve entrance.

“Oh…,” Rodimus said shakily, glancing down. Turning his gaze back to Magnus, Rodimus didn’t have a chance to continue. Magnus’s lips caught his own firmly, his second-in-command kissing Rodimus insistently, glossa licking across Rodimus’s lower lip. They were moving away from the desk, but Rodimus still wasn’t entirely sure what Magnus had planned, aside from the obvious.

It all seemed to happen faster than Rodimus could process. Typically, Magnus was slow and methodical when they fragged, having only gotten rough once or twice. Even then, Rodimus had had to insist to the point of almost ordering Magnus to use a bit of the strength Rodimus knew he was capable of. But now, Magnus was doing this on seemingly his own volition, and when Magnus kissed Rodimus again, Rodimus nipped at Magnus’s bottom lip.

His circuits heating up, and fast, Rodimus clutched at the back of Magnus’s helm with one hand, his other hand running along Magnus’s jawline. Kissing Magnus as roughly as he dared, crushing his lips against Magnus’s, Rodimus groaned and writhed excitedly against the larger ‘bot. He could feel fresh lubricant, a testament to his anticipation, start to well up in his valve, and Rodimus kissed Magnus again.

“Magnus…,” Rodimus whispered.

With a rough grunt of effort, Magnus suddenly pinned Rodimus up against the wall, Rodimus hitting the wall with a muted thud. A surprised noise was pushed from Rodimus, and he didn’t resist as Magnus worked his kisses along Rodimus’s jawline, tilting his head to the side with an audible groan.

“Oh, Primus...Mags…”

“Hold on,” Magnus ordered in a low tone.

Promptly obeying, Rodimus clutched at the back of Magnus’s neck with both hands, giving Magnus as much room as he could provide. Acting quickly, Magnus caught Rodimus’s lips in another, rough kiss before thrusting upward and bringing Rodimus down on his still slick spike in one swift move.

There was no stopping the cry that escaped past Rodimus’s lips as his valve was stretched suddenly, and Rodimus gripped sharply at the back of Magnus’s neck, bright flecks of light flashing behind his optics. Gasping, writhing and realizing his spike cap had opened, Rodimus kissed Magnus insistently, panting hoarsely.

“Frag me hard, Magnus,” Rodimus pleaded. “Frag me hard against this wall.”

“That was my intent, Rodimus,” Magnus replied with the faintest of chuckles.

“Magnus…”

Pressing himself against Rodimus to keep the smaller ‘bot pinned against the wall, one hand bracing himself against the same wall while the other gripped firmly at Rodimus’s aft to hold him steady, Magnus set a hard, determined pace. Rivulets of Rodimus’s pinkish hued lubricant dripping down his spike with each thrust, Rodimus’s cries and loud moans muffled only by the fact he had his face buried against the side of Magnus’s neck.

“Mags! Magnus!” Rodimus cried, his valve flaring hot between the hard thrusts and consistent, full feeling. Whatever traces of an overload in Rodimus there may have been while he had been orally gratifying Magnus coiled sharply and rapidly within Rodimus, his insides promptly feeling as tight as his valve was. “Oh, slag, Magnus! Yes! That’s-that’s it! Primus, yes!”

Though he didn’t verbally respond, Magnus was panting hard, dentae gritted and optics narrowed in focus. But when he felt Rodimus’s valve tighten responsively and a warm burst of opalescent transfluid spatter on his midsection, Magnus made a short, pleased growl. Another rush of Rodimus’s lubricant seeped down around Magnus’s spike, leaving a heated, carnally pleasing pinprick sensation in its wake. Rodimus was now crying out in delight with each thrust, and Magnus could feel Rodimus’s legs trembling uncontrollably around his waist.

His vision was blurred out of a combination of surprise and fragging ecstasy, and Rodimus could barely hold on to Magnus, his arms shaking hard from the intense demand for release that his overload was putting on his body. Unable to help himself, Rodimus writhed against Magnus, groaning loudly as his spike throbbed with another pulse of transfluid, small streamlets of the thick, hot fluid slipping down his spike and abdomen. Making a low, strangled cry as he buried his face back against Magnus’s neck when his overload began notch up rapidly.

“Magnus…! Magnus!” Rodimus gasped, optics going wide.

Again, Magnus said nothing, but his response came in the action of groaning lowly as he put on an extra burst of effort, his spike thrusting as deep as it could into Rodimus.

His overload climaxed, and Rodimus’s head snapped back as far as it could go as he screamed out ecstatically, optics shuttering off responsively. His valve tightened hard around Magnus’s spike, Rodimus’s back arching reflexively. He was vaguely aware of the viscous warmth spreading across his midsection as transfluid pulsed from his spike, but all Rodimus could feel was the wild mess of pleasure and mad passion that hammered through his circuits. The feeling of heat and rattling pleasure had every sensor running on full energy.

As his cry finally petered down into a shaking, hoarse sigh, Rodimus made a trembling moan as he kissed the side of Magnus’s neck.

“Oh...Magnus,” he gasped, his entire body heaving as exhaustion began to replace the heat that had just recently been racing through him.

“Are you alright, Rodimus?”

Grinning tiredly, Rodimus managed to laugh in both contentment and relief.

“Oh, Mags...I need to pay you more office visits.”

****  
  



End file.
